


and that is why i'm here with you

by andromeda782



Category: My Own Private Idaho (1991)
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, M/M, Smut, but also not sorry bc mike is my comfort character and WILL project onto him, but mike isnt that happy in this...sorry, happy ending i hope (idk i havent written it yet), i am not okay please i needed to write this lmao, i would ly down my life just for mike to be happy, nirvana papercuts is the title teehee, scotts nicer in this than in the film
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:35:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28772451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andromeda782/pseuds/andromeda782
Summary: Mike is in love with Scott, he always has been and he fears he possibly always will be.Scott feels he cant ever grow close to anyone but he wants to be close to Mike, closer than either of them can anticipate.-This is a shit summary but please give my fic a go because i promise it's gonna be worth it in the end. :)
Relationships: Scott Favor/Mike Waters
Comments: 5
Kudos: 15





	1. my whole existence is for your amusement

Mike felt sullen as he watched Scott laughing with Gary on the staircase in the rickety old building. He wanted to make Scott laugh like that, he did, but he wanted to do it forever. When Scott laughed, his head would tip all the way back and let out the loveliest sound to ever grace your ears. Knowing that it came from your own doing made it better. Everyone wanted to make Scott laugh, everyone wanted to be close to him, to know him, but not for the right reasons.   
See, Scott was set to inherit alot of money when he turned 21. Mike didn't believe that his father would give Scott the money, after everything he'd done. Though being the only heir to the riches had perks. No matter what Scott did, his father had to give him the money, or it would all go to waste. That was Scott's power, his main control in this world. He liked the knowledge that he could return home at any time. Erasing everything bad he'd ever done in the last few years. Mike craved that freedom.

The thing about being rich when the people you hang out with are homeless, is that they will all try to be your friend. To try and get a chance to taste that wealth. Mike wasn't like that. He didn't like Scott for his money, in fact, he hated Scott for it. He knew that one day he would leave and Mike would be alone again. He liked Scott because he was kind and he always made sure he was safe if he passed out somewhere. He never let Mike do a date with someone that he thought was sketchy. He cared about Mike in a way that no one else ever had and Mike cared about him in a way that he would never experience again.

He stood up, he couldn't stand to hear them laughing for any longer, he felt tired anyway. So, he dragged his feet up every step, towards the room that had come to be, 'Romeo and Juliet's'. It was Scott and Mike's. The comparison had always made Mike feel uneasy. Digger had been the first to taunt them with the names after they got caught cuddling in the bed. Scott played along every time, reciting a line from the play or calling Mike his beloved Juliet. It was a joke to him. In a way, it had been to Mike too, until he finally found a roughed up copy in a thrift shop and decided to read it. The tragedy of it had felt too real for him and the ending rung in his unconscious mind for weeks afterwards. The line, "Thus with a kiss I die." had resonated with him especially, because he was in love with Scott and knew that he would never get to kiss him. 

He sunk down onto the thin mattress and pulled the raggedy blanket across him. He wasn't cold but felt the need for it anyway. As his eyelids started to pull, he heard the door open with a loud whine. The smell of cigarettes, coffee and vanilla filled his nose. In theory, that scent would be disgusting but in reality, it was comforting. when everyone around you smells like they haven't showered in weeks, it's a nice change. He'd always been unsure of how Scott managed to smell better than everyone else. He figured one of his regulars let him shower at theirs. It would make sense since he got the most ladies out of everyone combined, and women prefer clean bodies. Not that everyone else here got lot's of women, men picked up hustlers the most. Men tend to hide their attraction to other men, women don't have to. So unless they're desperate, they stick to bars and work conventions. The small pool of women that do pick up hustlers, all flock to Scott. Mike doesn't blame them, He does too, but Scott always comes back to him, that must mean something. Or it means nothing at all.

Before he can roll over, or make space, Scott flings himself down next to him with a dramatic flair. He tried to close his eyes, to avoid conversation. Scott talked despite this, his voice was loud in the quiet, almost deafening.  
"My father has invited me home next Tuesday. I expect it's for him to see if I've made anything good of myself since last year. I want you to come with me, help me show him how good I can be."  
Mike kept his eye's closed,  
"Scott, if you're suggesting that we fuck in front of your father I'm gonna hit you so hard."  
He felt the bed shift under them as Scott rolled onto his side. Facing Mike full on, he blew a light breeze onto Mike's eyelids to force them open, it worked.

"hmm, tempting, but my father would never pay to see that, so sadly I'll have to decline. I was thinking more along the lines of getting drunk and making fools of ourselves."  
"So a normal Tuesday, but a far fancier setting."

Scott rested his hand on Mikes face, which made his heartbeat quicken.  
"Exactly. I'm hoping we'll be able to steal a few things to pawn off, and if you pass out, we'll get a night in a nice bed and a warm shower."  
"oh is that why you want me to come master Favor." he spoke with a heavy sarcasm, "To use me to have one last night of luxury? Old habits die hard I see."  
This earned him a punch to his shoulder, he deserved it. They laughed together, all sense of previous fatigue shredded itself from Mike's body. He stretched out and sat, cold seeping through his jacket from the brick wall.  
Scott also sat, mirroring Mike almost exactly, with his hand draped on top of his knee, It was a sight to behold.

"You should be grateful, Mikey. That I'm allowing you to experience such luxury at the low, low price of being my friend." He joked.  
"I'm not so sure that being your friend is a low price. The amount of smoke's you've bummed off me add up to more than your set to inherit."  
They often joked about Scott's riches. No one else could though, it sounded desperate from anyone else.   
Scott prodded Mike's own knee with his hand, sending a shiver through him.  
"Your not wrong, I guess I owe you. Well, night man."  
Scott pulled off his shoes and let them drop to the floor with a loud thud, before crawling under the blankets.  
Mike also got into bed, he felt tired before and that same feeling would soon hit, there was nothing left to do but sleep. He turned his face to the wall. There was an awkwardness that he felt around Scott and being alone at night. He hoped that Scott hadn't picked up on it.  
After a few minutes, as the familiar heaviness was setting into his bones, he felt an arm latch onto his side. Another reached up to rest in his hair. Scott did this every night, he said it helped him sleep. Mike didn't question it, it made him feel safe and that's all Mike ever wanted, To feel safe.

He'd been trying to get picked up all day, the streets were emptier than usual so he decided to walk. The morning had grown cold with the hidden sun and it was no longer pleasant to be outside.   
He ended up at the Chinese and who was sitting alone at a booth with a cup of coffee held in his hands, Scott, of course.  
"hey Mikey I thought you were hustling today?" He queried as Mike slid into the seat next to him.  
"No business. Guess cause its Sunday, all the queer folks are down at the church trying to pray their sins away next to their wives. The fucking irony of it," Mike scoffed, he couldn't help it.

He took a gulp from the drink Scott offered, it was lukewarm and bitter, but better than nothing.  
"We should go down there with them, see if the priest would pay us a good buck to suck him off in the confessional."  
He flashed a wild grin, it was obvious that he was proud of his idea.  
"That's not half bad Scotty, hell, I'd pay to see that."  
Scott laughed and gave Mike a wink, "I bet you would baby."  
He pulled a smoke from his pocket,  
"Fuck off you know what I mean, got a light?"  
"only if you give me a cig."  
He sighed but placed one between Scott's parted lips and leant into the flame, as if it was the only thing he would ever do.

Wandering up and down a dead-end alley for what seemed to be hours, wasn't Mike's favourite way to spend an evening. Yet, It was necessary if he was going to make it through the night. He had never planned on becoming an addict, but then, no one does. Sometimes it just happens and then it's as if it was the only thing you were birthed to do. That's how he felt, at least. Scott often told him that he didn't know anyone that did as many drugs as he did. He knew that was a bad thing, but at the time it had felt like praise. When the dealer arrived at long last, the exchange was quick and he hurried back before it became too dark.

When he opened the door to his room, he slammed it shut and recoiled his body till it hit the hallway wall, "WHAT THE FUCK?"  
was all he could muster the courage to say. The sight that would now be engraved onto his eyelids till he died, was Scott getting sucked off by Bob Pigeon. This wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Pigeon had a serious thing for Scott, he would do anything to even touch him. Scott let him because it got him decent shit but out of all the room's to get blown in, why theirs?

He could hear a few hushed laughs through the door and then, seconds later, the sound of Scott finishing. If Mike wasn't aware that Bob was the one with Scott, he might've gotten aroused over that, heaven knows he had in the past. When the fat man did vacate the room, he made a remark but mike wasn't paying attention enough to hear the words. He instead, stumbled into the room with a disgusted look on his face. 

Scott was buckling his belt and let out a laugh when he saw Mike.  
He ignored it and went to grab new blankets from under the bed, he was not going to sleep on the same one's Bob touched.  
"Out of everywhere you could've done that."  
He reaches out to touch his shoulder but Mike dodges it, leaning against the window instead.  
"Sorry, I didn't think you'd be back yet, come on, I'll make it up to you."  
"oh fuck off, y-you don't like Bob, what do you even get out of it?"  
"well mentally, I get the power of knowing I own that sad man's life. In the terms of material objects, he got me a full bottle of whiskey, I was going to share but now.."  
Mike glared over to where Scott was shaking the bottle like it was a treat and he was a cat. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't tempted.  
"I don't want your blowjob payment."  
"Everything we own is blowjob payment Mike, your jealous."  
"Jealous of what? The twelve STD's you just picked up?"  
"That's what condoms are for Mikey. Come on have a drink with me, this is the best we're gonna get for a while."  
"You mean the best we're gonna get till you get blown by Bob again? I'll pass thanks."  
Scott shook his head and laughed as if there was an unspoken joke in his ears. It made him feel dumb.

Despite saying that he wouldn't, 2 hour's later he's on the little ledge outside of their window with Scott.  
There's a breeze in the air that sets a chill deep into his bones. Still, he doesn't want to return to the confines and publicity of the building. He's laying with his head nuzzled into the crook of Scott's neck. It was time's like this when Mike wished they could freeze time and stay in the moment forever and ever and ever.  
After some time they fall inside to avoid illness, but being so close together in that tiny bed, so drunk, so amorous.  
Something was going to happen. They were lying in the same positions they fell asleep in every other night but it felt different.  
Something always happened when they got drunk and Scott would play it off the next day. He would say that he was only wasted and horny, nothing more than that. It didn't stop Mike from feeling like he was special when their bodies collided.  
Scott never kissed anyone, even if they asked, Mike thinks that he feels it's a different level of intimacy then sex. Maybe it was to him. That's how he knew that Scott didn't love him, he never kissed him, never above the neck, at least.


	2. put your emptiness to melody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike and Scott go the the Favor's but it doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI, I'm so sorry if this is a bit shit, i was listening to Hozier as i wrote this and I may have self projected slightly, but oh well.  
> I don't completely despise it and I will be doing more with this storyline in the future so if you get confused at any point, do not worryyyy, ok, enjoy!
> 
> (tw for talk about suicide)

After a long debate with Scott about whether his attire was acceptable to meet his father, they were on their way. Although he had been on the richer side of town twice before, knowing he was going for a reason other than sex was nice. Scott had reminded him that this little trip would not be enjoyable at all, but still, he clung to Scott contently as they rode up the steep hill.  
Ivy clung to the wall's of the building, the windows were bigger than anything Mike had ever seen before. Scott sighed, looking agitated and upset.  
" Are you okay?" he mumbled, searching the boys eyes for any glint of happiness lurking. There was none.  
"More than ok," his voice sounded laced with a heavy sarcasm, "couldn't be happier Mikey."  
Being aware of the mistreatment Scott had suffered at the hands of his father made him wary. He could feel the beginnings of an argument or a breakdown settling into the crisp air, he hoped it would be the first. Yet there wasn't much more time for thinking because Mr Favor had pulled open the doors to the mansion and was ushering them inside.  
He didn't offer his hand for Mike to shake but he didn't take too much offense in that.  
There wasn't any sort of greeting until they got inside, no words exchanged, just a nod and a disgusted look in return.  
"I see you brought a, friend, Scott. Would you mind introducing him."  
Mr Favor had a voice like sandpaper on glass, it torn and scraped along the air to our ears and ringed out once it hit. Mrs Favor sunk into the background, clasping her hands together as if one would fall off at any moment. She was pretty in the same way that china vases are. Fragile and almost too nice to have any use. There was a desperate anxiety radiating from her, she wouldn't even look them in the eye.  
Scott ran his hand through and tugged on Mike's hair in a soft manner. Looking his father dead in the eye, he responded,  
"Father, Mother, this is Mike Water's, we do drugs together and sometimes we fuck."

Mike couldn't help but smile, a smile which he immediately tried to hide. Mr Favor had a pained expression on his face and one of the nearby staff gasped. Mike knew this was all for shock value, but Scott hadn't exactly been lying, as he was sure the Favor family hoped.  
"Right, and uh, why is he here Scott?"  
"Didn't have anything to do did you Mikey?"  
Scott gave him a certain look, tilting his head towards his father, one raised eyebrow, suggesting that Mike say something.

"yeah streets were pretty empty. no point hanging around waiting in the cold for some old man to pay for a blowie, if I could be here instead."  
Scott flashed a wild grin after that. Emitting a laugh so glorious and real that Mike could feel it throughout his whole body. It was a gleeful type of laugh. Nobody else was laughing, they had shocked expressions plastered across their wrinkled up faces. not much else was spoken. There was a few hushed whispers around the staff. Mike had never been in a house that had its own staff before, he quickly decided he didn't like it. There was too many people and it all felt like a staged show or something similar.

Once they entered what Mike assumed was the dining room, they were immediately served. The room itself was tall, wide and emblazoned with flowery carved wooden décor. There was a fireplace, blazing out, casting soft glows of amber and honey onto the floors and the faces around. A cherry oak table sat in the centre of the room, it was smooth like a ocean tumbled glass and just as pretty. The chairs happened to be awfully uncomfortable, he thought rich people would at least want to be comfy in their mansions, but apparently not.

Instead of sitting, Scott wandered to a room that he couldn't see, he assumed a kitchen stood there.  
Mike sat awkwardly and observed as his father pressed his hands to his forehead in disappointment, sighing. The performance earned a pat on the shoulder from his cautious wife. As abrupt as his exit had been, he was back again, returning with a whole bottle of expensive looking wine.  
Nobody said anything as he popped open the bottle and chugged. maybe this had been a common occurrence in the past. Soon the bottle passed to Mike, he chugged it too. It tasted like nothing he'd ever had before. The food, also happened to be the nicest thing he had ever consumed in his life. Mike couldn't help wondering why Scott would ever want to leave this life of luxury, well, until Mr Favor opened his mouth.

"Scott, your mother and I have decided you need to come home again."

He raised his eyebrows and breathed out of his nose at a loud volume, "Why is that your decision? The last time I checked, you don't want me here."

"Of course we want you here Scotty, we worry about you." It was the first time Mrs Favor had spoken, her voice was soft and reminded him of his mothers, or what he could remember of his mothers . Scott seemed to soften his expression, he liked his mother, he always spoke of her when he got high.

"Well, yes, but we need you to change your life. I'm getting older and you need to know how to act once you take over. "Who said I'm taking over."

"You can't stay like, that, forever Scott. I thought we agreed that on your 21st you would inherit your money and learn to take over."

The atmosphere turned tense and the once glorious food now tasted sour, maybe that was just Mike. Both men were showing clear signs of an argument. Mike could only hope it wouldn't turn to shouting.

"And what exactly do you mean by 'that', father? Do you mean being homeless, it cant be the drugs because we all know about your little problem. Is it that I let guys suck me off for cash? is that it?"  
He almost chocked on his mouthful, and his wife looked in similar shock.

"Don't pretend you don't do drugs, I found coke in your desk when I was 15, I snorted it all too. I think that was the same weekend that I tried to kill myself but I guess you've chosen to forget that, haven't you?"

Scott spoke with in such a way, with huge confidence but a crack in the back of his throat. Mike didn't know about that weekend, he kept to himself, scared that any contribution from him would worsen the night.

"Don't you dare talk about that, you'll upset your mother! Why wont you come home? What's so good about this life you have now?"  
Mr Favor was right, she was upset, she kept it quiet, as did I, but there was a careless tear rolling down her face. Scott held his head upwards to show he wasn't afraid, it didn't work, he could tell by the way his hands rested in his lap that Scott was on the verge of something.

"Everything. Every fucking thing is better than being home. Sleeping on cold floors and never having enough food is miles better than living with you. I don't care about the money anymore, I don't care about you or this house or anything I've ever owned. I don't give a fuck because I'm actually happy with my life without this."  
He gestured to the room around us and watched as his father grew red at Scott's raised voice and vicious remarks. A tear bubbles at the edge of his eye but it's out of anger and pure hatred for the man that created him.

"Then why are you here Scott? If you hate us so much why did you come?"  
"I wanted to see if you'd changed, but I guess you didn't, so for once, your right. why did I come here? Mike, we should go."  
He wanted too, he really did, but all the shouting and the anger had reminded him of his own home. Of Richard. The long fight's over drugs or money or their mother. The harsh words. It all hit and before he could even speak, his body trembled and gave out on him.

Scott stared down at Mike's limp body as his mother freaked out.  
"oh my! Is he okay? What's wrong? Scotty?"

He ignored her, instead pressed him hand to Mike's face, hoping for a reaction.  
"Is he on drugs or something?" His father's voice felt full of hatred and utter disgust, it made him angrier.

"Fuck off, of course he isn't, he has narcolepsy its a sleep disorder, he cant help it. I can't get him home like this, we're gonna have to stay in my old room, we'll be gone before you wake up, don't worry."  
Nobody said anything as he hauled Mike into his arms. Not as he walked away. He assumed they had started to gossip when he was out of earshot but he didn't care. It was a struggle to drag Mike up the many stairs, he wasn't particularly heavy, but it wasn't easy. The night had not gone the way he'd initially wanted it too. The argument between him and his father got out of hand, it was Scott's fault, he got so angry, he couldn't help it.  
His room looked as it always had. Black bedsheets, piles of battered books on every surface, a typewriter on the desk. He wondered if his letters still took shelter in the drawers. After setting Mike onto the bed in an awkward way, he trudged into the connected bathroom and stared himself down in the mirror. He looked like shit, felt like it too. Before he could start moping around with his thoughts, he started a shower. The hot water was a nice distraction. As he stood, shedding his skin under the steam, he slumped to the floor, wrapping his arms to his legs and shaking under the pelting droplets. The energy it had taken to even say a simple hello to his father, let alone a whole conversation, had been too much. Thing's had come out that he hadn't wanted to, Mike was going to have questions when he awoke.

After an eternity of 30 minutes, Scott climbed out of the shower and huddled under a towel. He'd missed being this clean although he hated the circumstances. Rummaging through his wardrobe proved to be quite successful, most of it still fit him, he made a pile on the floor of things he would take the next morning. The pile contained clothes, some shoes, two books, more if he could. With that, he climbed under the soft sheets, not before pulling Mikes shoes off. 

He woke up in a dark room, feeling a type of fatigue he would never truly be rid of. He saw a body laying, facing the opposite direction and decided to call out, in case.  
"Scott?" It was scarce a whisper, but it was heard.  
He turned to face Mike, in the dimness he could see only outlines but he felt as if Scott had been crying.  
"What is it Mikey?" He had definitely been crying, there was a rawness to his voice.

"Did you really try to kill yourself?" it was all Mike could think to ask and he followed it with a meek apology. A silence settled between them, he regretted his words but taking them back now would do nothing, they were out.  
"I uh- yeah, I did. It wasn't serious or anything, it was stupid. I shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's not stupid Scott, you don't have to be sorry. Why did you, never mind, you don't have to tell me."  
A dejected look settled across his face, Mike didn't know what would happen next.

" I'd had a fight with my father about something so I tried to overdose but my mother found me and made me throw up. I didn't speak for two weeks afterwards, I had nothing to say. They didn't do anything about it, just left me alone. That was when I first realized I had to leave. It's funny though because when I was laying on my floor, crying in pain, all I could think about was how alone I was. How no one cared about me. I'm still not sure people care about me. I feel that loneliness sometimes. It creeps into my bones and makes home in my skin like a fucking rat."

He had started to cry ever so and Mike took the risk, reaching his hand to face and using caution, wiped them from his eye's. Scott leaned into his hand.  
"I care about you, I love you, you know that. I'm sorry you had to go through that alone and I'm sorry your parents are such dicks. You deserved better than that. You did."

The conversation ended at that, possibly because of the tiredness hanging in the air. Scott crept into Mike's arms and they stayed cuddled for the night. Mike fell asleep thinking about what he'd said, how someone so publicly happy could feel such pain so deeply.

**Author's Note:**

> so like...... what do you think???


End file.
